Cold on his Cradle
by emsana
Summary: Sam's live changed in that one moment as he lay in his cradle, but life never stops changing. Spoilers for some of Season 3.


Cold on his Cradle

AN: I don't own Supernatural. And this is because I promise to update all the time and just don't. Enjoy.

-

When Sam Winchester was five years old he woke up in the middle of the night.

Unlike most children his age Sam hadn't suffered many of the usual night-time mishaps. He never wet the bed, he never had nightmares, he always slept the whole night through in his own bed. But one night, in the frost of early Winter, he woke up.

He knew something was wrong, but what he couldn't say. He dangle his legs off the bed and slide off the side till his feet touched floor. Dean was awake the moment the boards creaked. But Dean just sat up in bed, looked around, and fell back into his covers, and his light slumber. If Dean wasn't worried, then what was wrong? Dad was out, but Dad was almost always out. Sam padded a circle round the motel room. He stopped beside his bed and suddenly the most horrific sensation took hold of him. He looked up.

-

Dean woke soon enough to hear his brother cry out, but not soon enough to catch him.

-

When Sam woke up for the second time that night he was in the waiting room of the nearest hospital Caleb had found, who'd only just arrived in time to stop Dean hot wiring a car and driving his brother himself.

The doctor shone lights in and out of his eyes and asked him to follow his finger, what's your name, what day is it. He asked what had happened. All Sam could say was that, there was burning right before his eyes, then there was black. Everything smelt like smoke. The doctor told them that he wanted to run more tests.

Dean just sat on the hospital bed and stared into the distance, gripping his brother's arm through the jacket sleeve that was actually his own. When the doctor left he just asked what day it was. Sam told him, he'd already answered the question once. This time Dean heard and he just nodded and stared into the distance. Something was wrong now.

-

Dad came back to the motel where Dean spent his days whilst Caleb, or Bobby, or Jim watched Sam; it was only Dean that stayed up all night watching Sammy. Dad was angry, concerned angry, which was worst than forgot to check the do the salt circles angry because he wouldn't speak except to demand answers from doctors who only had theories, simple faints, seizures, blackouts. In the end Dad wanted them to leave and the hospital was only too happy to oblige and it didn't happen again so everyone was happy. Except Dean.

--

When Sam was ten he woke up in the middle of the night.

Sam was a quiet child, he didn't bother anyone in the night, he kept his nightmares to himself, he only started waking up in a cold sweat after Dean told him the truth. Bot one night, in the roar of far too early holiday traffic, he woke up.

No-one tends to remember much of their childhood at all, and Dad and Dean never talked about most things from before... ever. He thought he must be worried because nightmares were real, and because although Dean swore to protect him no matter what he just fell back to sleep again this night. Every noise made him jump now. There was a creak on the roof and he was scared to look but even more scared not too.

-

Dean woke soon enough to hear his brother cry out, this time he didn't need to catch him.

-

When Sam woke up the second time that night This time Dean just called Dad straight off. Sam might not remember everything, but Dean's memories are spitefully vivid. Dean sat on the bed next to his brother and asked him if it was the same. Was what the same? But Dean couldn't answer, because there was a calender on the key table and the date was one he'd rather forget.

Sam could still smell burning and Dean could only hear screaming. Only this time there were two voices, and he kill to make the new one stop.

-

When Dad arrived he was angry. Not concerned angry, pissed because you called me up in the middle of a hunt because Sam had a nightmare angry. Dean wanted Sam to go to the hospital but the moment Dad said no all Dean could say was yes sir, and of course I'll look after Sammy, it's all I'll ever do. And everything went back to normal again. Except Dean.

--

When Sam was fifteen he woke up in the middle of the night.

As a teenager Sam had suffered the torments of high school. He stayed up late finishing work, studying, he wouldn't sleep the night before exams.But one night, in the warmth of New Mexico winter, he woke up.

Sam could remember something of last time but right now he was too busy worrying about the geography paper due in on Wednesday to realise what day it was. He got out of bed, Dean was used to him wearing the boards in the early hours and just checked around him before turning over and burying his head in his pillow. Sam went into the kitchenette and poured himself a glass of water. He downed it, fidgeted next to the sink, and ran through everything he had to do at school in the morning, in seven hours. He went back to his bed and lay on his side thinking. He rolled onto his back.

-

Dean was awake to sit beside his brother as he cried out, for the first time in years he knew what day it was without asking.

-

When Sam woke up the second time that night he put it down to stress, being overtired, and Dean didn't phone Dad this time so he couldn't possibly know. He could smell smoke but there was a maths test in three hours and as he was awake already... .

Dad was angry when he got back and found out. Concerned angry, and for God's sake why didn't you call me angry. Dean just took it and didn't even fight going to school for the next few weeks. They were going to go to the hospital but Sam wouldn't let them, he couldn't afford to miss school as it was. Dad went up to Medford a few days later and when he came back he was quieter than usually but kept assuring them everything was okay. And they all wanted to believe it. Except Dean.

--

When Sam was twenty he woke up in the middle of the night.

Sam was a perfect student, never a late paper, turned up to every lecture, he pretended not to have whole weeks when he didn't sleep. But one night, in the mild California November, he woke up.

This time Sam knew exactly what was going to happen. Every minute he was thinking about school, except the ones when he was thinking about what happened first. He strained to keep his eyes shut but the nagging at the back of his mind wouldn't go away, and sleep wouldn't come. This time he still wasn't ready for what he saw.

-

Dean broke down the door as soon as his brother cried out, Sam wouldn't answer his calls but he knew he should have been there sooner.

-

When Sam woke up the second time that night he was expecting Dean and he wasn't. Everything smelt like smoke and the fire in his head wasn't smothered until he accepted the water his brother offered him. He couldn't bring himself to look at Dean, who waited until he was sure Sammy was okay before leaving. He didn't say a word the whole time he was there, and he didn't disturb Sam again for two years.

Dad was angry when Dean got back. Thank God you weren't dead in a ditch somewhere angry, but also worried about both his boys angry as well. Dean had been counting the days since Sammy had left, and not always for the right reason. Dad didn't ask after Sam and Dean didn't say and they went up to Clifton the same day without a word. They didn't mention it again and no-one counted the days. Except Dean.

--

When Sam was twenty-five he woke up in the middle of the night.

Sam was a good hunter, he never took the job home with him, he slept with a knife under his pillow, he still kept his nightmares to himself. But one night, in the bitter Arlington fireworks season, he woke up.

Sam was expecting to see the same thing this year, only with one more person. He got out of bed and looked across at the hollow emptiness of the bed beside his. He still couldn't order a single room and he still didn't care when he got odd looks. He ran his hands through his hair and lay back on the bed. Nothing happened. Instead he just felt the cold pang of loneliness, and it was worse.

-

Sam didn't sleep that night and there was no Dad to call and no Dean to call him. Instead he lay on the bed and wished he'd gone in a fire in Lawrence, Stanford, in a muddy field in South Dakota. At least he wouldn't have been alone.

Sam couldn't muster the strength to hate himself for not making things better, for not making it different. But things were different now and everything that haunted him for the last twenty-four years had gone. Even Dean.


End file.
